


There's a Brand New Dance, But I Don't Know Its Name

by RidleyMocki



Series: Pynch fics [1]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Barely even talked about but it's there, Canonical Child Abuse, Domestic Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Pynch Week, Ronan Lynch Loves Adam Parrish, Ronan's POV, Sharing Clothes, They're massive sarcastic flirts and it's great, complete floof, pynchweek17, something old // something new // something borrowed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 18:25:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11652165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RidleyMocki/pseuds/RidleyMocki
Summary: Ronan picks Adam up from work and struggles with the way that old baggy t-shirt makes him look, prompting Adam to share a good memory from his past, in a way he so rarely does. Ronan loves the way the two of them work together, Adam thinks his boyfriend is away with the faeries half the time.They have a quiet, cute evening together, with some gratuitous Gangsey shenanigans at the end.





	There's a Brand New Dance, But I Don't Know Its Name

**Author's Note:**

> This is done for PynchWeek17! This is my first foray into Pynch fic-wise, (but lord knows Maggie's books have got me like woah) and I've never done a fic challenge before, but I just finished my honours thesis and LO BEHOLD I actually miss having deadlines. 
> 
> Title is from 'Fashion' by David Bowie, because this is also a fic for the t-shirt fandom and I miss my Goblin King.
> 
> Go forth! I hope you enjoy this ridiculous thing that I've made!

There was a hole in the collar of Adam’s t-shirt when Ronan picked him up from work, a stretched out and threadbare t-shirt that was driving Ronan goddamn fucking crazy. Streaks of black were littering Adam’s hands and forearms, one across his brow, but the shirt was clean for all that it was ratty as hell. His hair was heavy with a few days dirt but the smile was the same. The whole ensemble was strangely new.

Ronan had never seen him quite like this. Adam had looked tired at times; beaten down, or worn out. But he’d never looked vulnerable. He had ridden a moving dolly behind Ronan’s car and held a demon in his bones, for god’s sake; he never, ever looked vulnerable. But the shadow from the loose collar made Adam’s chest look concave, it’s faded colour washed him out, and Ronan had the infuriating urge to gather him to his own body and shake out whatever made him look so small.

It was an urge Ronan rarely got: to protect Adam Parrish. All the facts seemed to suggest the opposite; he’d beaten the shit out Adam’s dad, after all. But if anyone knew about wanting people to treat you as though you were your own master, it was Ronan. And Adam wasn’t some wilting rose you had to tiptoe around lest his petals fall. Adam could be more dangerous than Ronan himself in many ways and Ronan was keenly aware of it. Attracted to it, even. Just like he loved Adam’s dark stare and his dismissive comments, the glimmer of something hard and jagged and ready. Ronan had been pinned by that stare more than once, and it was always thrilling. 

But that fucking shirt. It was wrong on him. Made him look skinny and ill-matched to his body. The way it made Ronan want to protect him was infuriating because he knew Adam would hate it. They cared for each other by insulting one another then laughing together, touching like they were entitled, being there when needed and leaving be when that was needed, instead. By giving each other the dignity of their respective strength – not by treating one as weak. 

“Earth to Lynch. Where’ve you gone?” Adam snapped his fingers in front of his face and Ronan blinked, hurtling back to reality.

“Whatever,” he snarled. Adam only smirked at him. “You look awful. Don’t get grease stains everywhere.”

“Didn’t seem to bother you much the other night,” Adam said lowly, buckling into the passenger seat of the BMW. Ronan felt his neck go hot as he pulled back onto the road, trying hard not to look in the rear view mirror to the back seat, and fuel the memories of what they’d done there. Adam’s crassness was oddly relieving, though. Pierced the dishevelment so Ronan saw him sharply again. 

“What the hell happened? Did you get stuck under a car?” He reached over to thumb the stain on Adam’s brow, and Adam swatted his hand away with a grumble. 

“Just an engine that looked like it’d been dragged from the sea. Bastard of a thing. I actually had to change, I haven’t done that in years. Honestly, the shit people do to their cars…” He trailed off, distracted with retying a shoelace. 

“That explains the shirt.”

“What about the shirt?”

“It has holes in it,” Ronan said plainly. “You never wear anything with holes.” Adam got a sad little twist to his mouth at that. It was true, of course, Ronan knew. Adam’s Aglionby uniform had always been impeccable, and if he’d just never sat next to another student, made obvious the way his uniform was slightly faded, it might have looked new.

“It’s old,” Adam said, “I found it in my locker.” Ronan had taken the road on the edge of town, and it was blessedly bare of other cars, because he kept looking over at his passenger. 

Adam picked at another hole in the hem of his shirt, the cotton knit peeling back like worn paper. After a few moments he said, “There was this guy that lived in our street for a while,” and Ronan looked back to the road, aware of how rarely Adam talked about his old place. “He wasn’t that old but he acted like he’d lived through the punk era or something, safety pins in his ears and shit,” Adam smiled to himself. “Anyway, his name was Gary and he was cool, you know? Decent guy. Not brave, exactly. I mean, he knew what was going on with me the way everyone did. But he was nice.” The unspoken _everyone knew and didn’t do anything_ made Ronan grind his teeth together. Adam seemed to frown at his own memories, and they filled up the car, hovering. 

“And?” Ronan said lowly, after a moment. Adam recalled himself.

“And, one day he saw me walking out of the lot to go to school, with a blood stain on my shirt. Gary, he was out smoking on his front step, asked if I wanted to change. I told him I was locked out. Then he just disappeared inside his trailer and came out with this,” Adam tugged at the collar of his t-shirt. “I wore it that day and then kept it at work. Totally forgot about it, actually, until just now.”

“Why at work?” Ronan asked, then immediately wondered if that was the wrong thing to ask. This second-guessing shit was all Gansey’s fault, he swore. He reminded himself that Adam didn’t care when he was blunt. 

“Because I didn’t want my parents to find it. It was just– it was mine. And I didn’t want Gary to get shit for it.”

Ronan nodded. “What happened to him?”

Adam shrugged. “He moved a few years back, chasing some music dream or something. I only knew him for a couple months.”

They lapsed into silence, spent mostly with Adam rolling his shoulders and neck, and Ronan sneaking as many glances at him in the orange setting light as safety would allow. 

Before long they pulled up at Monmouth. The windows were dark, seeing as no one was here these days but Ronan, the others off on their intrepid adventures.

“You still need a damn shower, though,” he said, slamming the door shut.

Adam snorted. “You offering to give me one, Lynch?”

“Oh fuck off,” Ronan said with a smile.

…………………………

Adam did shower, but he did it alone and threw water around the curtain at Ronan when he came in to grab a soda from the fridge. “It’s not like I haven’t seen it,” he laughed on the way out.

When Adam emerged, towel around his waist with another rubbing at his hair, pink from the water and smirking, he said, “If Blue were here she’d be biting your ear off about consent.”

Ronan huffed, dragging his eyes away from the droplet of water on Adam’s stomach. “I’d willingly cut my ear off before she opened her mouth.”

“I’ve learned from experience that she’ll just walk to your other side and get your good ear.” Ronan made a face at him. “Too soon?” And there, right there, was the asshole he knew and quietly loved. Adam’s feigned look of concern slowly melted away into a smug grin, his eyes dark. Ronan stretched a little where he sprawled on the couch and openly stared, letting his eyes run over the breadth of Adam’s shoulders, the graceful slope of his cheek, trailing down his neck and chest, ending at the strong hand that gripped the towel he’d stopped using to dry his hair. Said hair flopped in attractive disarray over his forehead, making him look touchable and real. When Ronan caught his gaze again, Adam’s smile had shifted into something soft and amused.

“What were we talking about, again?” Ronan said, unbothered. Adam laughed at him and swatted him with a towel as he walked behind the couch and into Ronan’s room. It was only once he was out of sight that Ronan realised the towel he’d swatted with hadn’t been the one Adam had pressed to his hair, and he groaned. “You’re a fucking tease,” he called out. 

This summer was being incredibly good to him, Ronan thought. The fact the others were away made things very quiet, but they kept in touch and the feeling of their absence never veered into loneliness. On Friday, when Adam finished work, they’d drive to the Barns for the weekend and while away hours in the too-warm sun surrounded by dream things. Adam would do a reading for him out on the porch in the middle of the night, fireflies about and circling. He’d try to do it on intuition but end up pulling out a book on tarot anyway, and Ronan would tease him for being a nerd. Ronan would wake up next to him the next morning, seek out his warmth under the covers, and wonder how in the hell they, of all people, managed to end up here. They’d get up at crashing sounds in the kitchen and find Opal throwing cereal pieces to Chainsaw, the bird hopping manically in the small space to get to them. Adam would press a kiss to his shoulder and start on the coffee. 

It had been more or less the same for the last few weekends in a row, and the predictability of it just made Ronan grateful, instead of annoyed. 

“You’re drifting off a lot today,” Adam said right before he flopped on top of Ronan where he lay on the couch, head pressed to his throat and chest to chest. “Everything good?”

Ronan was nodding without having to think about it, and he ran a hand down Adam’s spine. It was a testament to their relationship that Adam accepted that response and didn’t press further. The fabric beneath Ronan’s fingers was softer than he expected and he looked down to see Adam was wearing one of his own black t-shirts. “You changed.”

Adam propped himself on an elbow to look at him, suppressing a smile. “You hated the other shirt,” he said, matter of fact, and Ronan raised an eyebrow at him. “I know you, Lynch.” He said lowly, and leaned down to press their lips together. Kissing Adam was still a little leap of faith, like he was giving himself up, giving in, allowing another person too near. It was as dizzying as the first time. But they had lots of kinds of kisses now. This one was content and easy, and they drew it out for longer and longer.

“You wanna get pizza later? Skype the others?” Ronan asked when they separated. This was something of a routine, as well. And Gansey would never let them hear the end of it if they left it another day without checking in. Adam nodded at him and resettled on his chest, the silent _yes, but later_ coming through loud and clear, regardless. Ronan let his head fall back, the shadows of Monmouth’s dusty eaves growing broad as the sun met the horizon. He toyed with the fabric under his fingers, liking that it was warm from Adam’s body and fit him well, liking it in a way he couldn’t explain. There were a lot of things he couldn’t explain about this new thing they had, and not everything in his life was alright, but damn it, this was. 

This was alright. 

This was good.

……………………………

(They overslept and had to race to Nino’s before it shut, even though the summer night was probably too warm for pizza. Blue took smug screenshots of their Skype chat when she saw they were, in fact, wearing the same shirt. Henry joked that he would make an Instagram account to document their married life, and then looked wounded when Ronan very slowly and appreciatively ate the pizza that Henry couldn’t get to if he tried. Gansey looked well slept for once and, with the unwitting confidence of someone who thinks their concern is valid, told Ronan and Adam that they had better be taking care of themselves. “You’re the one in the middle of fucking nowhere,” Adam laughed at him.

“Adam. It’s _Henrietta_.” Gansey got very close to the camera and widened his eyes as if to psychically convey the weight of what he was saying.

“There’s magic in them thar hills,” Blue said behind him, rolling her eyes. Adam cracked up.

“Thank you, Dad,” Ronan said, “we’ll be sure to use the buddy system.”

Gansey sent them ‘mental hugs’ – “It’s a thing, Ronan, accept my affection” – as Henry waved goodbye on screen, and ridiculously, Ronan and Blue fist-bumped their respective cameras at each other, making Adam snort into his shoulder.

This was good.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I really hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Comments are life, kudos are love, and either will earn you good vibes from me. <3
> 
> If you want to watch me flail or want to discuss the very serious topic of Pynch, catch me on [tumblr](http://ridleymocki.tumblr.com/)


End file.
